


The Champion's Lover

by Gerec



Series: The Champion and the Healer [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Kink Meme, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con References, Rimming, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:56:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerec/pseuds/Gerec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continues immediately after "The Champion's Weakness" where Anders is kidnapped and sexually assaulted by Templars. </p><p>This sequel deals with the aftermath of the rape and Carver's continued obsession with his brother's lover. Boatloads of angst and heartache - Anders is really messed up, Carver digs himself in deeper and Garrett is the best lover ever. Plus Varric and Fenris goodness!</p><p>Part 2 of 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> Carver is summoned to the clinic by Anders and wonders if he'll make it out in one piece.

Carver was probably going to die.

It was very likely - as likely as the sun setting each evening and rising again each morning, in a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth. As he trudged through Lowtown on his way to the clinic, his mind cycled through the likeliest scenarios. A fireball, engulfing him in flames? Perhaps a bolt of lightning, stopping his heart? Or would it be Justice, tearing him limb from limb, as he had done to the Templars in the Chantry the night they tried to save the mage Karl? 

He thought briefly of stopping at the Hanged Man for some of Corff’s brew to settle his nerves, and then quickly decided against it, not wanting to bump into his brother or any of his companions. It had been six days since he last saw Garrett, the day after...that night, and he was anxious to avoid another confrontation.

  


_Carver could feel his brother’s approach from his post across the courtyard, on the opposite side facing the Gallows entrance. Garrett wore an expression equal parts rage and defiance, his arcane power palpable, radiating outward in invisible waves. Following a few paces behind him, Varric and Fenris stepped warily, eyeing the Templars and recruits as they parted before the Champion’s stony gaze._

_“Champion,” the Knight Captain stepped into Garrett’s path. “What brings you to the Gallows today?”_

_“Cullen,” Garrett was barely keeping his temper in check, “I came to see my brother.”_

_“I’m here,” Carver moved forward and stood beside the Knight Captain. He braced himself for the attack, knowing well his brother’s feelings for Anders. Carver had known this would be the outcome, the moment he had given in to his lust for his brother’s lover. Yet, he could not bring himself to feel remorse, after finally experiencing the unmitigated joy of holding Anders in his arms - kissing him, tasting him, rocking into him as he moaned Carver’s name._

_Instead, Garrett turned to address Cullen, “You and I will not mince words Knight Captain. Two Templars went to the clinic last night and attacked Anders. They took him, drugged him and raped him. I want to know if it was done on Meredith’s orders.”_

_Stunned, Cullen looked at Garrett and stammered, “Surely you can’t be serious...”_

_Garrett leaned forward menacingly and lowered his voice to a bare whisper, “Was that a yes or no?”_

_Cullen straightened and answered tersely, “No. I assure you that neither the Knight Commander nor I were involved in such abhorrent acts. Are you sure they were Templars?”_

_“Do you think I’m a fool Knight Captain? Who else but Templars would do this? Or have the capabilities to subdue him?” Garrett snarled. “It was done to provoke me, make me declare war against the Order, give you the justification you need to bring the Champion to heel.” Garrett took a step back and crossed his arms. “If it’s war you want, you shall have it. And if you come after those I love again, I swear to you I will burn the Gallows to the ground and every Templar in it.” He spun around and walked briskly away, leaving Carver to stumble after him._

_“Garrett wait,” Carver reached forward and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Anders...how is he?”_

_The harsh glint in Garrett’s eyes softened slightly, “I’ve healed him and he’s back at the estate resting.”_

_“You said you came to see me.”_

_“I did. I want your help finding the bastards who did this.” Garrett held Carver’s gaze. “Do you know who they were?”_

_Carver sighed, “If you find them and kill them, Meredith will retaliate. She won’t take an apostate’s word over those of her men.”_

_Garrett’s face was hard as granite. “A war is coming Carver, and you’ll have to choose a side. I suggest you choose wisely.”_

  


He’d been relieved that Anders had chosen to keep his involvement secret, though he wondered at the reason. Was he protecting Garrett - or dare he hope, Carver? He shook his head at the ridiculous thought; of course it was about his brother. Anders knew it would hurt Garrett to know they had been intimate, likely putting his own feelings aside to spare his brother the pain. Or he was afraid of Garrett’s reaction, knowing as Carver did, how impulsive and dangerous the Champion could be when the ones he loved were hurt or threatened.

Carver sighed as he took the stairs to Darktown. He pulled out the letter delivered to the Gallows that morning and re-read the simple message: 

_Meet me at the clinic tonight._

_A_

Try as he might, Carver could discern no hidden meaning. Why did Anders want to see him? Was it to demand that Carver destroy his phylactery? Or was he planning retribution for Carver’s actions?

Carver continued his descent into the tangled maze of the Darktown tunnels, lost in his thoughts. Would he have a chance to explain? That he made the phylactery for Anders’ protection, so Carver could find him if he were taken? That he loved Anders and would do anything to keep him safe? Or would he be too angry to listen? Did he hate Carver for violating him that night as surely as the other Templars had done?

The guilt flared within him, warring with a desire that had burned bright and unabated since the night at the Rose. He was flooded with memories of his coupling with the mage – the way he smelled, the taste of his skin, the way his body writhed and bucked as Carver thrust inside him. If he could be with Anders again, he knew, no matter what, that he would do it and consequences be damned.

He deserved a fireball in the face. 

When Carver finally reached the clinic doors, he found the lanterns had long been extinguished. He willed himself to remain calm, then took a deep breath and opened the door.

  



	2. Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver's confrontation with Anders doesn't go quite the way he expects.

“Carver.”

“I’m here.”

It was quiet, the place empty of the usual bustle of patients and activity that filled the clinic’s daylight hours. Anders was standing by his desk, partly illuminated by a shaft of moonlight that drifted in from the clinic’s only window. He was beautiful, Carver thought, looking hard, uncompromising yet somehow serene, like a statue sculpted in marble. He was clad in a loose tunic and breeches, hair loose, his usual feathery coat nowhere to be seen.

Stopping a few paces away from the mage, Carver stood and waited, unsure what would happen next. Anders was certainly not welcoming, but neither did he seem to pose an immediate threat, which only served to confuse Carver.

Anders stared silently at him, his face an indiscernible mask until finally Carver couldn’t help but stammer, “Look Anders, about that night I...”

“Shut up.” Anders stepped in front of Carver, moving away from the light and into the harsh shadows of the surrounding clinic. “You’re here to answer my questions, not to give me excuses. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Anders took another step forward, standing close enough for Carver to smell the mage’s scent, a musky blend of elfroot, lyrium and _Anders_. He felt dizzy, adrenaline pumping through him, equal parts arousal and alarm.

Anders gave Carver a piercing look. “Did you go to the Rose, Carver, intending to use me after the others were finished with their fun?”

“What? No!” He was filled with shame, that Anders would think he was like the others, had planned to hurt him, violate him. Though he could certainly understand the mage’s thinking, for hadn’t he done just that, regardless of his intentions? Had he not taken advantage of Anders in his weakened state, taking by force what was not freely given?

“No I didn’t go there thinking...I just wanted to make sure you were alright. To take care of you...I’m sorry.”

Holding Carver’s gaze steadily the mage continued, “Did you enjoy fucking me Carver? Did you like pumping your cock in my ass and making me moan for you?”

The question caught him off guard, and did nothing to stem the sudden surge of desire that thundered through his body, so strong he had to bite back a moan. His cock ached, throbbing and painfully hard already as his mind supplied the vivid images that corresponded to Anders’ words.

He hesitated, mind grasping wildly for an appropriate response. Discerning none existed, he instead answered truthfully, “Yes.”

“And do you want to fuck me again?”

Another pause, then the same answer. “Yes.”

Carver held his breath, tensing, anticipating an attack. Instead, Anders simply continued, though Carver thought he caught a slight shift in the way the mage’s eyes were watching him intently.

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it?”

How could Carver explain it, to make him understand? That he loved Anders, had loved him for years, and did so knowing his feelings would never be returned? That he loved him enough to betray his brother, the only family he had left; to betray the Order, the family he had chosen? Loved him enough to protect him always and to champion his cause?

“I did. More than anything.”

“And what would you be willing to do, to show me that you love me?”

“Anything. I’d do anything you asked.”

Anders smirked, “Really, it’s that simple?”

Carver reached out tentatively to touch Anders’ hand, “It’s the truth.”

Amber eyes flashed a brilliant blue, and then it was gone – and quickly forgotten, as the warm hand on his chest distracted Carver from any further thoughts.

“You’re not wearing your armor.”

“Templars aren’t welcome in Darktown. I didn’t want to draw unwanted attention.”

“Hmmm...” He ran his hand slowly, seductively, sliding down the fabric covering Carver’s chest and stomach, resting just above the belt holding his breeches. “I have a proposition for you.”

Carver was finding it hard to breathe. His body was burning up, and he wanted badly to kiss the mage, to plunder his mouth and taste every inch of his pale, lean frame. He clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself to remain still and not to tug Anders against him.

Running his fingers along the muscled contours of Carver’s chest he continued, “I need your help, with a project. I want your sword...and your discretion. The things I ask you to do, you need to do them without question. And you can’t tell anyone, especially Garrett.”

Carver’s brow wrinkled in confusion, “It’s something dangerous then? Why don’t you want Garrett to know? What...”

“I said no questions. Do this for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

“What I want?”

Anders yanked him forward, pressing the whole length of his heated body against Carver’s, brushing his lips lightly with a kiss. “Me.”

Carver stood frozen, his erection straining uncomfortably against his breeches. His heart soared at the unexpected offer even as he scoffed at the absurdity of it. Anders couldn’t really mean...?

“I don’t understand. You’re offering...what about my brother?”

Anders grabbed the front of Carver’s shirt with both hands and shoved him backwards, until his legs hit the wooden frame of the cot near the closest wall. Pushing him down, he pressed himself firmly between Carver’s thighs, grinding their cocks together through the rough material. Carver groaned and wrapped his arms around Anders, cupping his ass as the mage gave him a bruising kiss.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with Garrett,” Anders snapped. “And I said no questions.” He tugged at Carver’s hair, tilting his head back to expose his neck and bit him roughly, leaving teeth marks on the sensitive skin.

“Now I’m going to ask you again. I want your cooperation and your silence. In return you get to touch me, to have me. That’s the offer.” He shifted his thigh, pressing it against Carver’s erection before leaning in and swiping his tongue across the Templar’s lips. “Yes or no. Now choose.”

Carver groaned, then grasped the mage’s shoulders and pulled him in, parting his lips to taste him before he answered, “Maker, yes! I’ll do anything I swear!”

Anders’ eyes took on a feral gleam as he hauled Carver to his feet and flipped him around, forcing his chest into the cot. He ground himself against Carver’s ass and growled into his ear, “I want to fuck you, Templar.”

Carver couldn’t suppress his moans as hands quickly pulled off his belt, tugging his trousers and small clothes down to pool at his feet. Anders leaned over him, running long fingers under his shirt, marking the exposed skin at his neck and shoulders with his teeth as he explored the muscled body pinned beneath him.

“Do you like this Carver? Do you want me to fuck you? Bend you over and stick my cock in you? I want to hear you say it Carver. Beg me to fuck you.”

Carver could feel Anders behind him, pulling his own breeches down and rubbing a hard cock against his crease. He felt the mage’s hand twitch slightly before two greased fingers were shoved inside him, sliding knuckle deep. He waited for Carver to adjust, then thrust in and out, preparing him.

“Does this feel good Carver? It’s been a long time since I’ve fucked a Templar. You’re all so damn tight, so wound up from all the apostate hunting and mage killing.”

Carver barely registered the words, his skin on fire, burning with his need for Anders as he pushed back, trying to take the fingers in deeper, “Yes, Maker, please! Fuck, I want it!”

Anders immediately pulled his fingers out and shoved his cock inside, draping his body on top of Carver’s. The Templar hissed at the intensity of the burn, and grit his teeth as he adjusted to the feeling of fullness. A tingling wave of healing magic soothed Carver’s insides and then Anders began thrusting in earnest, setting a brutal pace that made the wooden cot sway back and forth, digging deeper into the dirt floor.

Grunts, moans and the sound of flesh on flesh filled the emptiness of the clinic as Anders bucked hard into Carver, making him shudder from the intensity and the pleasure of the rough handling. The grip on him tightened, and he felt a hand circle his cock, stroking and pulling him until he was coming, spurting his seed across the mage’s hand. Anders thrust erratically into Carver until he moaned loudly, then buried his cock in Carver and exploded, coating the Templar with his own release.

Anders pulled out of Carver and started to turn away, only to feel Carver’s gentle touch on his arm.

“Wait. Will you...please I want to touch you. Will you let me?”

For a moment Anders stood still and didn’t answer, an unreadable expression on his face. Carver pulled him closer, kissing the palm of his hand, and he tensed, before leaning against the cot and giving a slight nod. Carver shifted, kneeling in front of Anders, sliding his hands along the contours of the mage’s body, running them across his chest and down his sides before resting them on his hips. He leaned forward, breathing in the lingering scent of Anders’ release and then reached for his boots, tugging them gently off his feet. Breeches and smallclothes soon followed, until Anders was standing before Carver, bare from the waist down.

Nudging him to sit back on the cot, Carver lifted Anders’ legs and spread them open before him. The mage watched him silently, as he smoothed his hands along the lean muscles. Draping long legs over his shoulders, Carver kissed and nipped gently against the sensitive skin on Anders’ thighs. He dipped his head forward and placed a reverent kiss on the tip of his cock, before running his tongue lower, tracing the ridges to his sac, tasting the remnants of his seed. He rolled his tongue around and mouthed the loose skin, then followed it with a swipe of his tongue against the mage’s hole.

Anders began to moan softly, his body rocking against him as Carver continued, pulling his cheeks apart to fully expose him. He ran his tongue around the mage’s rim, circling the pucker a few times before probing him, pushing in and out of Anders. He groaned when Carver added a finger, pushing deep inside him, stretching and stroking him as he continued to work him with his tongue.

When he followed with a second finger, Anders bucked against him, pushing down to take him in deeper. He continued probing, stretching and opening the mage before he crooked his fingers and Anders keened, gasping his approval with incoherent murmurs.

Carver stood, stepping out of his breeches and kicked off his boots, still pumping his fingers in and out of the mage. He pulled Anders’ shirt off of him, his own following close behind before lifting the mage onto the cot and laying him down. He lowered himself, rubbing against the body beneath him, pressing his cock against the mage’s entrance.

Anders reached up and pulled Carver closer, then raised his hips and wrapped his legs around Carver’s waist. He moaned, breathing out the words as they shared a heated kiss. “More. I want more.”

He pushed into Anders, his cock slowly pressing in, stretching and opening the tight passage. Anders let out another moan and pushed back, driving Carver’s cock deeper inside him as he angled his hips to meet each thrust. They rocked against each other, Carver alternating his thrusts between shallow dips and hard plunges until Anders was writhing against him.

They continued moving together, Carver mapping every inch of exposed skin with his lips; licking, tasting, memorizing. Finally Anders came, spilling his seed as Carver stroked him, his ass clenching tightly around the cock inside him. Carver’s release soon followed, and the Templar slumped bonelessly against Anders for a moment, before shifting slightly to lay beside him on the cot. He curled his arms around the mage and pulled him close, pressing soft kisses on Anders’ head and stroking his hair.

He felt Anders relax against him and sigh, “Garrett...”

Carver fought against the flare of jealousy that bloomed within him, burying the pain deep down. He knew Anders didn’t love him, that the mage was simply using him. Still the hurt burnt bright and sharp before shifting, transforming from pain to the dull ache of acceptance.

He could barely make out the words that Anders whispered next, lips moving against his chest, “You shouldn’t love me.”

Carver pulled him closer, tucking a loose wisp of reddish blond hair behind Anders’ ear. Placing a light kiss on the mage’s forehead he answered simply, “I know.”

For a short while, there was only the sound of quiet breathing, echoing in the space around them. Finally, Anders extricated himself from the embrace, then stood and began to dress, pulling on his tunic and breeches. When he turned towards Carver again, his eyes were dark, his face a blank mask.

“Be here tomorrow evening and wear your armor. We’re going to look for some Sela Petrae.”


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude.

_It is dark._

_But the room is inviting, and he is there, waiting, bathed in the warm glow of the fire. Anders is breathless with anticipation and fear – he has spent three years denying these feelings, the ones welling up inside him, threatening to spill out in a mass of jumbled words and clumsy gestures._

_Anders is afraid, knows it won’t last, because nothing good in his life has ever lasted. But he wants/needs/craves this so much he will risk everything to be happy and he will give the only thing he has left, to the man standing before him._

_He hopes._

_He hopes for long days together, sharing conversations and laughs. He hopes for long nights together, sharing sighs and kisses. He hopes for time, before the inevitable will happen; when it will all end because Anders knows there is no happy ending for what he is. Mage. Whore. Abomination._

_When they share their first kiss for a second time, Anders thinks he tastes sunshine. He is the grass under his feet and the wind in his hair; he is the rain and the clear blue sky. They move together and fit, as though the Maker has shaped their bodies for just this purpose and Anders knows finally, what it feels to be free._

_“I want you right here, until the day we die.”_

_\---_

_It is dark._

_They stand beside one another, on top of the battlements, watching the stars. It’s late and the Keep is quiet and this is the last night they will have together before he departs._

_Anders is afraid, his feelings for this man are strong and he thinks he could love him, if they had more time. But time is not something a Warden can waste, on this “thing” between them that doesn’t have a name. He doesn’t deserve more he knows, because he is damaged and why would the other man even want him?_

_He pulls Anders close and kisses him, deep, filled with longing. It makes him think for a moment that this is not the end, but as the other man pulls away he knows – he is not worth it for him to stay._

_“Mage, you know why I have to go.”_

_He does not answer, nor does he turn as the words follow him off the battlements._

_“I’ll come back for you, I promise.”_

_\---_

_It is dark._

_And they are huddled in his bunk, imagining a life outside these thick stone walls. They speak of Antiva, and the tight fit of the leather pants they will wear. They speak of Rivain, and the Seers that will give them their fortunes.They speak of the Anderfels, where they will return to their homes, embraced by loved ones long lost._

_It’s a dream and unreachable, like all things outside the Tower, but it’s all they have to cling to except for each other. Anders cares for this man, though they both know it’s too dangerous for anything real. Maybe away from this place, they could have something more._

_When Anders runs, he never follows._

_\---_

_It is dark._

_He comes to his cell. Sometimes with others, but mostly alone. They were lovers for a while, until Anders moves on. He is bitter and angry, and affection becomes obsession._

_He whips him, until he screams, blood dripping down his back._

_He fucks him, until he bleeds, promising to both love him and punish him._

_He makes him choose, to be violated by a cock or a whip._

_He makes him beg, for his attention, for his touch._

_Anders knows when it happens, he feels the change. He doesn’t cry anymore when they surround him, when they take turns using him, spilling their seed inside him. He moans for them and begs for more and Anders knows now that the things he is told must be true._

_“You’re mine Anders.”_

_“You belong to me.”_

_“Look at you begging for cock. You love Templar cock don’t you?”_

_“A mage whore.”_

_“That’s all mages are good for.”_

_And when Anders escapes for the last time, he vows to forget everything, only to find that some things can’t be left behind._

_\---_

_It is dark._

_The weight pressing him down is familiar, the Warden(Templar!) is intent on taking back what belongs to him. His body responds, as it has been trained to do, even as he fights the fear and repulsion for the man above him._

_He drives into him, making him scream and Anders knows he is too far away from the Keep for anyone to hear. He tells him he will be punished, for running away, for cheating on him and that he needs to remember that he owns him, he belongs to him._

_He kisses him, and Anders knows he will never let him go._

_\---_

_It is dark._

_The room reminds him of home, the heat from the fire is warm on his skin. But he doesn’t recognize the hands touching him, and soon he is horrified to know it will happen again. That being an abomination doesn’t mean he won’t still be a Templar’s whore. They take him, making him beg and he is ashamed of being so weak, to let himself enjoy the touch of someone other than his lover._

_It is worse when he comes, spouting words of love and devotion as he too forces himself on Anders. And his heart breaks because he can’t stop it, and because a part of him enjoyed it and he knows this is the beginning of the end._

_\---_

_The blinding light brings them war._

_He sees the color of the sky above him, stained red, like blood._

_Sacrifice._

_“Karl, I’m sorry...”_

_He sees the color of the ground beneath him, stained red, with blood._

_Silence._

_“Take me with you Nate!”_

_He sees the color of the knife before him, stained red, his blood._

_Salvation._

_“It was nice to be happy, for a while.”_

_The crushing darkness brings him peace._


	4. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett asks Anders to run away with him.

Garrett was having trouble sleeping.

He was lying in their large four poster bed, buried under a tangle of silk sheets and covers, wrapped around the warm body of his lover. He should be content; Anders was home tonight, an increasingly rare occurrence in recent weeks. Yet he couldn’t shake the sense of disquiet, that he was missing something vitally important going on with the man sleeping beside him.

Letting out a small sigh, he reached out and ran his hands through the blond hair splayed across his pillow. Anders had always been equal parts passionate and secretive about the cause he fought for, though Garrett couldn’t understand why he was still being kept at arm’s length after all these years. Hadn’t he proven himself a supporter of mages by helping them as often as he could? What would it take for Anders to really trust him, open up to him? Meredith’s head on a spike?

He chuckled at the memories that surfaced from his random thought. Of their first meeting, all those years ago at the clinic, when Garrett had opened the doors at the end of a Darktown tunnel and found himself captivated by an apostate Warden with healing hands and honey brown eyes. He had known even then, that he and Anders belonged together, though it had taken him too many years to break down the other man’s defences.

He sighed again, shifting closer to the sleeping form of his lover. While things hadn’t been easy, they had always been able to lean on one other, supporting each other through the various trials that had characterized their life in Kirkwall. Since the attack at the Rose however, Anders had become increasingly distant, spending little time at the estate and giving him various reasons for being out all hours of the day and night. He’d tried on multiple occasions to broach the subject with Anders, only to be dismissed outright for being overly protective. 

Anders shifted in his sleep, rolling over and tucking his body against Garrett’s, interrupting his train of thought. It made Garrett grit his teeth to hold back a moan as his body responded to the warmth of Anders’ skin against his own. He’d carefully avoided rushing them to resume their intimacies, sensitive to the trauma his lover experienced at the hands of the Templars. He knew he would happily wait forever if need be for Anders to heal, though he would at least admit to himself that the past six weeks of celibacy had been anything but easy. 

A soft kiss on his neck brought him out of his reverie and he looked to see Anders watching him, a smirk on his lips. 

“Can’t sleep? Have you got some pent-up energy you’d like to get out of your system?”

He smiled, kissing Anders on the forehead before he answered, “I was just thinking.”

Anders propped himself up on an elbow. “It’s the middle of the night Garrett. What are you thinking about?”

Garrett hesitated, not sure if it was the right time to bring up the concerns he had over his well-being. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Anders frowned, then leaned forward and pressed himself against Garrett’s body. He reached up and dragged him into a heated kiss, parting his lips and tasting him until Garrett let out a moan and gently pulled away. “I think we should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.” Anders leaned over and grazed his teeth lightly over Garrett’s nipple, making him jump and his cock twitch in anticipation. 

“Love wait, are you sure you want this?” 

Anders stopped and gave him a pointed look. “What do you mean?”

“Well we haven’t really talked about...what happened...since that day. I don’t want...” 

Anders cut him off abruptly, rolling away from Garrett to the far side of the bed. “It’s fine, you don’t have to say anything else.“ He paused briefly before continuing, “I knew when I told you about my past that this would happen. That it’d be hard to know the things I told you about me and still want...really it’s fine.”

Garrett stammered, “Wait, what?” 

He stared at Anders’ back as understanding dawned on him and he cursed himself for being the biggest blighted fool in Kirkwall. “You think that I don’t want...”

Anders’ voice was muffled, head buried in his arms. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

Garrett slid over and tugged Anders towards him, then rolled himself on top of his lover and crushed their lips together. Anders responded immediately, throwing his arms around Garrett’s neck and parted his lips, letting Garrett plunder his mouth and cover his face and neck with desperate kisses. 

They broke apart for a moment to catch their breath, staring wordlessly into each other eyes before Garrett was moving again, nipping and licking and stroking, lavishing attention on the body beneath him with hands, teeth and lips. He would show Anders, make him feel in every part of his being how much he wanted him, needed him.

He reached down and slipped his hands under Anders’ pants, caressing his heated skin and pinching him ass lightly before stripping them off his legs impatiently and tossing them off the bed. Anders moaned and bucked against Garrett, his erection already hard and leaking.

Sitting up, he quickly tore off his own trousers and then resumed his ministrations, drawing his tongue in long stripes along Anders’ stomach and thighs before finally mouthing his cock and licking the fluid from its tip. He continued, alternating between teeth and lips to nibble and suck, until Anders was writhing and chanting his name. 

He quickly summoned a grease spell, then slipped slicked fingers inside, stretching himself as he swallowed Anders to the hilt. He moaned at the taste and the feel of Anders cock and revelled in the delicious tension in his lover’s body as he tried to hold himself back from thrusting in and out of Garrett’s mouth. 

“Ah! Garrett...oh, so good. This feels so good Garrett, please don’t stop.” Anders clenched his fists on the bed, knuckles white from gripping the sheets tightly.

Garrett rocked against his own hand, twisting and working his fingers deeper until he couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed himself up, straddling Anders and shifting into place. He leaned over and they kissed hungrily, before Garrett lowered himself onto Anders’ cock inch by agonizing inch.

They moved slowly around and against each together, Anders easing gently in and out as Garrett relaxed his muscles to accommodate. Finally, he arched backwards and began to move, rocking up and down on the cock inside him as he whispered “I love you” over and over.

He set a scorching pace, sliding hard and fast, slamming his hips down as Anders thrust upwards to meet him. He felt a slick hand wrap around his own cock, pumping in time with his hips and let out a loud groan of pleasure. They devoured each other, consuming each other with hands and lips until Garrett finally came, shooting his seed on Anders’ chest. 

His lover soon followed, pumping his hips a few times before Garrett felt the warmth of Anders’s release pulsing inside him. They collapsed together, heedless of mess on their skin and held each other tightly.

Finally, Garrett lifted himself off of Anders and reached over for a cloth to clean them up. Afterwards, they lay together, arms and legs entwined, sweat cooling and their breaths slowly returning to normal.

They didn’t speak, choosing to enjoy the quiet that surrounded them as they relaxed in each other’s embrace. Garrett lay with his head on Anders’ chest, feeling at peace in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Let’s run away, leave Kirkwall.” He shifted, tilting his head so he could see Anders’ reaction.

“What? And go where?” 

“Anywhere. We could visit all the places you’ve always wanted to see – Antiva, Rivain, the Anderfels. Isabela said she would take us on her ship. Or we could go back to Fereldan. Maybe find ourselves a little farm somewhere.”

Anders scoffed, “What, you and me, raising sheep in the middle of the Bannorn?”

Garrett placed a kiss on Anders’s wrist, then pulled his hand against his chest, their fingers intertwined. “Why not? We used to have a farm in Lothering. I could work the fields and teach you what you needed to know. Or you could set up another clinic. We could live a nice quiet life, just the two of us.”

Anders snorted, “You wouldn’t miss the comfy bed? The big tub? Bodahn’s cooking? And what about all the slaver and bandit killing? Wouldn’t you miss that too?”

Chuckling, Garrett sat up and pulled Anders against him, wrapping his arms around his lover. “It’s true I would probably miss all those things. And the watered down ale at the Hanged Man too. But I’d trade all of it in a heartbeat if it meant we could always be together.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, until Anders finally answered, “My family had a farm too. It’s what I always wanted as a child. Even afterwards in the Circle, my dream was to have a house in a little village somewhere, a place where I could belong. To live a normal life with someone I loved, raise a family, use my gift to heal the sick.” He sighed, “It was a good dream.”

He pulled away from Garrett and sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. Garrett followed, rubbing circles on the small of his back, “We could still do it you know. Have that dream.”

Anders shook his head, “I wish I’d met you before, Garrett Hawke. Before Justice, before I became a Warden. Things were so much simpler then. I was so much simpler. But it’s too late for me, love. It’s been too late for a long, long time.”

He stared into Garrett’s eyes and smiled wistfully, “Promise me no matter what happens, you’ll remember how much I love you.”

Garrett’s stomached tightened. “Anders, please,” he pleaded, “Why are you talking like this? I need to know what’s wrong. Tell me love, so I can help. Don’t shut me out.”

“Everything’s wrong. We’ve tried for years to make people see that mages deserve their freedom, that we shouldn’t be punished for simply existing. And nothing has changed. This can’t be allowed to go on.” He brushed a hand across Garrett’s cheek and continued, “You deserve better than me. Better than I can offer you. I can’t run away from this now even if I wanted to.”

Before he could answer, Anders slipped off the bed and reached for his clothes. Garrett watched silently as he got dressed, unable to speak as invisible bands of fear and dread tightened around his chest. When Anders was finished, he sat down beside his lover and pulled him into an embrace. He kissed him, a soft, languid kiss full of unspoken emotion and longing. 

“I love you. I wish that meant I would never hurt you. You are the most important thing in my life, but some things matter more than my life, more than either of us. I’m sorry.”

Garrett clung to Anders, hands grabbing fistfuls of his feathered pauldrons. “You’re wrong, there is nothing more important than love!”

Anders tugged his hands away and kissed him again, before pulling himself from Garrett. He walked towards the door and then stood still, his hand trembling slightly before he reached forward and pulled it open. He turned and gave him a smile, one filled with so much love and regret that Garrett felt it like a physical blow, tearing through his soul and leaving a wound that hurt more than the one he’d received from the Arishok’s blade. “You are the one shining light in my life. Never blame yourself for what will happen.” And then he was gone, shutting the door softly behind him.

Garrett remained sitting, listening to Anders’ footsteps as they faded into the distance. Finally he stood, stepping over to the window in time to see Anders exit the estate and head towards Darktown. He watched silently, until the silhouette of his lover was enveloped by the shadows of the early hour before he whispered a promise to himself in the dark. 

“I’ll protect you from whatever is coming Anders. And I won’t let you give up on us.”


	5. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett spends some quality time with friends. And the Champion has reason to be jealous.

“Hawke, I wasn’t expecting you ‘til later for Wicked Grace. To what do I owe the pleasure of the Champion’s company?”

“Oh Varric, can’t a man just miss his favorite dwarf?”

Garrett set his staff against the wall and then plopped himself down awkwardly, looking for all the world like a lost puppy in the middle of the dwarf’s suite. Varric sighed, “What happened with Blondie?”

“He left, Varric. Early this morning and I haven’t been able to find him all day. I’ve looked everywhere and no one’s seen him, not in Darktown, at the clinic or at Lirene’s. I don’t suppose he’s been here to see you?”

“Not today no, but I did see him yesterday at the clinic.” Varric paused. “He was acting a bit strange,” he chuckled half heartedly, “well stranger than usual anyway.”

“Oh?” Garrett quirked an eyebrow at him and asked, “How so?”

“He was spouting some nonsense about me being a good friend. Tried to give me some pillow his mother made for him. I turned it down...the whole thing felt a bit off to me. And that says a lot considering we’re talking about Blondie.” He rubbed a large hand across his chin and grimaced, “It was like...”

Varric paused and got up, heading to the door of his suite and waving for Norah. She nodded, heading to the bar and he turned back towards Garrett, sitting in his chair once more and sighed.

“Well? Like what?”

“Like he was trying to say goodbye, Hawke. Like he wanted to give me something to remember him by.”

Garrett let the words sink in, and tried to keep a tight rein on his emotions. He didn’t want Varric to see him panic, though it was probably a wasted effort with how well the dwarf seemed to read the thoughts of those around him. He could feel Varric’s eyes on him as he continued, “You’re not surprised.”

He rubbed his face tiredly before he answered, “He did as much with me last night, telling me he was sorry and that he couldn’t give me what I needed. He practically told me in so many words that he’s about to do something incredibly dangerous and selfless and to, you know, just let him go.”

“And you let him leave?”

Garrett snapped, “What was I supposed to do Varric? I begged him to tell me what was going on! Told him I would help him! It’s not like I could tie him up in my estate and never let him out of my sight again!” He could feel the frustration building inside him and took a deep breath before continuing, “I’m sorry Varric. It’s been a long day already.”

Steps coming up the stairs outside pulled their attention to the door and they both turned to see Norah come in, carrying a tray with drinks and some unrecognizable plates of the Hanged Man’s “special”. Fenris followed closely behind, stepping around her to place his great sword in a corner of the suite before joining them at the table.

“Nice timing elf. Going to join us for dinner?”

Fenris didn’t answer, instead helping himself to a tankard before taking a sip of the ale and scowled, “Pfaugh! Why do they insist on serving this swill here?”

Garrett passed one to Varric, before taking a drink from his own and smirked, “Most of the Hanged Man’s clientele can’t afford Aggregio Pavali, Fenris. And this gets them drunk enough to forget the taste.”

They ate and drank silently for a while before Garrett pushed his plate away and leaned back into his chair. “I had asked Fenris to join us so we could catch up. Have either of you found anything more about the Templars that were at the Rose?”

Varric tapped his fingers absently on the table as he answered, “No one claims to have seen anything suspicious. Either the Templars had things well planned or they’re paying a lot of sovereigns to keep mouths shut. Madam Lusine has an arrangement with the Templars that’s been in place for a couple of years. They have a room on reserve there and their members come and go as they please; apparently they want privacy to conduct their affairs.”

“So we have nothing. It’s been six weeks and we’re still no closer to finding the bastards that took him!” Garrett slammed a fist on the table, his temper flaring at Varric’s words. “Fenris, have you been able to find the child they used as bait?”

“Yes,” Fenris answered mildly, “Though it is another dead end. They used an elf child from the Alienage and paid him two sovereigns to be part of the ruse. He did not ask who the humans were and was only happy to have made enough coin to feed his family for a few months.”

“Why an elf? Surely there are plenty of children in Darktown looking to make some coin?”

Varric jumped in to answer, “I imagine Blondie knows most of Darktown’s refugees, young and old. Most if not all are in his debt after all these years of free healing. It’s unlikely they would find anyone willing to hurt him, even for coin.”

“The mage was careless. If he considered for a moment that the child they were carrying was an elf, he would likely have caught on to the ambush. There are very few of them in Darktown.”

Anyone else would have flinched at the unwavering glare he received from the Champion; Fenris simply arched his brow at Garrett and took another sip from his ale.

Varric cleared his throat, attempting to distract Garrett before an argument could erupt between his two companions. “So Hawke, what’s next? Have you tried asking Junior for help? Maybe he can do some digging for us from the inside.”

Garrett blew out a breath and shook his head, “I haven’t seen my brother since the day we went to the Gallows. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he was avoiding me because he had something to hide.”

“Perhaps he simply does not wish to involve himself in your affairs, and have his loyalties divided.”

Garrett snapped, “And is that how you feel Fenris? Do you not wish to be involved in my affairs? Do you feel this way because I’m asking for your help regarding Anders?”

“As I told the mage himself, my loyalties are to you Hawke. I will do what you ask of me, it matters not who it’s for.”

Garrett frowned, “You told him...when did you speak with Anders? What would the two of you have to talk about? You don’t agree on anything!”

Fenris quirked an eyebrow at Hawke and answered, “There is only one thing the mage and I have ever agreed on and it is that we both owe you a debt of gratitude Hawke.” He continued, “As for what we discussed; the mage came to see me two days ago. He wanted to know if my current situation with Isabela preceded my....loyalty to you.”

Varric whistled, “Well that’s an interesting development. I wonder what Blondie meant by that?”

“He wished to know if I would protect Hawke, to watch his back if anyone tried to harm him. And I will tell you what I told him. No one will get to you without going through me first.”

Varric and Garrett shared a look, before the dwarf shook his head. “This is bad Hawke. Sounds like Blondie’s putting his affairs in order.”

Garrett felt the bile rising in his throat as he considered Varric’s words. Fear and frustration overwhelmed him as he sat, unable to speak, hands clenched tightly into fists. He could see Varric get up from the table and head out of the suite, only to return a few minutes later with a bottle of whiskey. He poured a round for them and pushed a glass into Garrett’s hands. “Drink. It’s Legacy White Shear. This will make you feel better. “

He downed the alcohol in one shot, then promptly poured a second. It burned on the way down and settled like a lead weight in his stomach. By the third glass Garrett was feeling a little lightheaded, though he was a bit calmer. “I should go, try and look for him again.”

He started to stand before Varric gestured for him to remain seated. “Before you go, I have more news.”

“Oh? What news?”

Varric poured them another round and continued, “You know how we’ve added more lookouts in Darktown since the attack? Well it’s mostly been quiet...except that Blondie’s had a visitor come to the clinic pretty regularly in the past few weeks.”

Garrett wrinkled his brow in confusion. “He hasn’t told me anything about a visitor. Do you know who it is?”

The dwarf shook his head. “Tall man, dark hair, usually in non-descript armor. Keeps a low profile; we haven’t been able to get a good look at him.” He continued, “At least we know he’s not a danger to Blondie. Sometimes he leaves alone; other times Anders is with him.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes at the dwarf, “You don’t think it’s Howe do you? Do you think he’s trying to get Anders to go back?”

Puzzled at his reaction, Fenris inquired, “Who is this Howe?”

“You haven’t heard the story, elf? It’s a good one, couldn’t have written it better myself.” Garrett scowled at Varric as he continued. “A couple of months ago, we bumped into an old friend of Anders’ from his time with the Wardens – pretty lady by the name of Delilah Howe. She takes one look at Anders and throws her arms around him, like she’s just gotten the best gift for Satinalia.” He points his thumb at Hawke and chuckles, “This one here thought she was one of Anders’ old flames. You should have seen his face.”

“She was pretty! How was I supposed to know Varric!” Garrett groaned and put his head in his arms while Fenris looked on, bemused by his reaction.

“So she tells us she’s looking for her brother, one Nathaniel Howe, who knew Anders when they were both Wardens in Amaranthine. Turns out he was tasked to retrace our steps in the Deep Roads and she was worried that he’d gone missing.” Varric grinned and leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the table before he continued, “So the Champion jumps in and offers to go find her brother and bring him home, thinking he’d impress Blondie by helping his old friend.”

Fenris shook his head, “I take it the mage and this Howe did not part on friendly terms then?”

“Oh, on the contrary! We found him, separated from his companions and surrounded by darkspawn, not a hair out of place. He takes one look at Anders and his face goes white like he’s seen a ghost. Then he drops his bow on the ground and stalks over, grabs Blondie by the shoulders and kisses him so hard it made _my_ toes curl! Hawke here – you could have knocked him over with a feather!”

Garrett growls and throws his hands up, “It’s not funny Varric! Maybe they sent Howe to pressure Anders because of their history! Do you think they want him for deserting? Maker, maybe that’s why he’s been acting so strange lately!”

Varric sobered at the thought. “Whatever it is we need to figure it out fast before he does something stupid that we can’t fix. Maybe it’s time we sat him down and tried to talk some sense into him.”

Before Garrett could answer, they were interrupted by Norah. She peered into the suite and called over to the dwarf. “Varric, this note just came for you.”

Varric read the note silently, then turned to Garrett. “Well, this is your lucky night Hawke. Tomwise says that Blondie just got back to the clinic. If you go now you can probably catch him before he runs off again.”

“Good. Why don’t you two meet me at the estate and I’ll bring him back as soon as possible.” Garrett stood and adjusted his armor, grabbing his staff from the wall as he made his way towards the stairs.

Fenris couldn’t hide his surprise at the request. “You want me to be there as well? Are you sure that’s wise?”

Garrett didn’t stop, calling out behind him, “I’m counting on you to piss him off so much he’ll tell us what he’s doing just to shut you up.”

He didn't wait for a response, stepping into the night air and taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. His head felt a bit fuzzy, the whiskey having a more obvious effect on him then he realized. He turned away from the Hanged Man, leaving the sounds of laughter and drinking behind him and began making his way briskly towards Darktown.


	6. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders' arrangement with Carver is over.

_“Danger.”_

Anders felt the warning flash in his mind and tensed, a moment before he heard the door to his clinic creak open. He stood quickly; turning away from the crates he’d been packing and grabbing his staff from the wall. Moving carefully towards the main area of the clinic, he called on his mana, ready to defend himself from the intruder currently making their way towards him.

A familiar voice rang out in the quiet space. “Anders? Are you there?”

He let out the breath he was holding and loosened the grip on his staff, propping it back in place. He sighed softly before answering, “I’m in the back.”

A familiar silhouette of the armored man filled the doorway, blocking the light from the single window behind him. Anders returned to his task, sorting his belongings and the clinic’s supplies into the open crates. “What are you doing here?”

Carver stepped inside the small room and approached Anders, placing his hand on the mage’s shoulder. Anders stiffened and then stood, dislodging his hand and turned to face him. “Well?”

“Meredith sent for the Rite of Annulment five days ago. It will only be another two to three days before she gets her response from the Divine.”

_“We are ready.”_

Anders shook his head, urging his inner thoughts to calm before he answered, “I know. Mistress Selby got that information from one of the Starkhaven mages before she left Kirkwall 2 days ago.”

“What will you do?” Carver stepped closer, reaching for the mage again only for Anders to turn abruptly away from him.

“Was there anything else?”

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his Templar regalia and continued, “I’m afraid Meredith won’t wait for the Divine’s response. There are rumblings in the Gallows that she’s planning something sooner.”

_“We must act!”_

Anders was silent, forcing his raging emotions in check before he answered mildly, “Thank you Carver. You can go now.”

Carver gave him a critical look, surprised at the lack of reaction. He placed himself in front of Anders, blocking his way and forced the mage to look up at him. “Tell me what you’re planning. I want to help you.”

Anders held the other man’s gaze steadily, responding in an icy tone, “I told you I don’t want any more of your help. Our arrangement is over Carver, leave now before I throw you out.”

Pushing past him, the mage started towards the door to the outer clinic. He was halted by a firm grip on his arm. “Don’t push me away Anders. I love you. Please, let me be there for you.”

Anders spun around, yanking his arm out of Carver’s grasp. “You love me? You expect me to believe you know anything about love Carver? Did you forget that you raped me? After you helped those bastards do it to me too! What did you think was going to happen between us? That I would leave Garrett for you and we’d live happily ever after? The apostate abomination and the Templar rapist?”

Carver looked stricken by Anders’ words, his face paling as he struggled to form a response. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear it! I just...I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. And you looked ...I’m sorry! I know I made a mistake! Please, can’t you forgive me? Isn’t there anything I can do?”

Anders bristled, his emotions spiraling dangerously out of control. “Why do you need my forgiveness Carver? I’m a mage; you’re a templar. Isn’t it your divine right to make me submit to you? You’re not even the first Templar in my life to tell me he loves me and then fuck me against my will.”

Carver took a step back, stunned by the rage and pain in Anders’ words. The air between them crackled with tension as both men stood still in the dimly lit space, staring at each other in silence. Finally, he spoke, words tinged with guilt and remorse, “If you hate me so much, why did you sleep with me?”

He had expected Carver to defend himself, to justify his actions the night at the Rose. Instead, the question surprised Anders; the genuine regret on the other man’s face only serving to defuse his anger and confuse his thoughts, even as his mind supplied the answers.

I needed your help.

I wanted to hurt you.

It’s the only thing I have to offer.

It’s what I deserve.

Anders shuddered, wrapping his arms around his chest, closing his eyes tightly as tears threatened to spill unbidden. Turning his back to Carver, he answered, “I needed your help. So I gave you what you wanted. It didn’t mean anything.”

Arms pulled him backwards, until his back was pressed against the front of Carver’s breastplate. The Templar folded his arms around Anders and embraced him, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “You’re lying. I know it meant something to you. I could feel how much you wanted me when we were together.”

His thoughts wandered to the nights he had spent with Carver, their bodies pressed together, slick with sweat as they moved in the darkness of the clinic. Did it mean something? Anders wasn’t sure. In the past weeks he had been consumed by the need to act, to finally take a stand for mages everywhere. His waking hours were filled with equal parts determination and guilt; for his lies, for what he knew he had to do and for the innocents that would be killed. Even the time he spent with Garrett had been tainted by his betrayal and by the secrets he’d been keeping from the man he so desperately loved.

In Carver’s arms there had been the peace of oblivion; no pain, no guilt, no lies. Anders could allow himself simply the freedom to feel and to be wanted, laying his burdens aside for a short while. He craved and hated the Templar’s touch in equal measure.

Anders came to his senses, wrenching himself from Carver and storming into the clinic proper. He spun around and spit venomously, “Don’t touch me! I’m not going to let you fuck me again! I don’t owe you any explanations Carver and I don’t want any more of your help! Get out!”

The Templar watched him impassively, then stalked towards the mage and pushed him until his back was pressed against the clinic wall. “I’m not going to let you drive me away Anders. If you won’t tell me what you’re planning then I’ll go to Garrett and tell him what you’ve been doing so he can stop you. I won’t let you get hurt when I promised to protect you.”

A warning flared bright and hot in Anders’ mind. _“He will not interfere! Stop him or he will be the first one we sacrifice to the cause!”_

Anders reeled, pushing back the rising panic. He grasped desperately for a way to stop Carver without harming him, hesitating only for a moment before he lunged forwards and pulled him into a deep kiss. Carver pressed against him, burying his hands in Anders’ hair and pressing his tongue insistently into the mage’s mouth until he moaned.

The force of arcane power rushed towards them like a tidal wave, throwing Carver clear across the clinic, his body smashing against the wall before he fell to the ground in a heap. Anders stood, horrified, as Garrett stalked towards his brother, yanking him up by the chin and snarled, “Get your hands off him Templar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For story telling reasons I've made some minor edits to this chapter from the version on the meme. Hopefully this version reads better.


	7. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out..or does it?

Garrett feels a rush of relief when he arrives to find the clinic doors unlocked; he’s not too late to catch Anders. The room is shrouded in shadow, the only light streaming in from the single window. He’s about to call out, but stops when he hears Ander’s voice float out into the empty space around him.

“...gave you what you wanted. It didn’t mean anything.”

He doesn’t hear a response, and wonders if his lover is having a conversation with Justice again. Garrett heads towards the room in the back, but stops abruptly as Anders storms out, followed closely by someone in Templar armor. 

Fear grips him as he scans the room quickly, trying to locate the other Templars who must be laying in wait to trap his lover. He readies a spell and aims, only to freeze in place as the armored man steps into the light – it’s Carver.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not going to let you fuck me again! I don’t owe you any explanations Carver and I don’t want any more of your help! Get out!”

It takes Garrett a moment to register what he has heard, the words spilling out of Anders in a rush. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts; surely the alcohol is making him hear things? He didn’t really say...?

“I’m not going to let you drive me away Anders. If you won’t tell me what you’re planning then I’ll go to Garrett and tell him what you’ve been doing so he can stop you. I won’t let you get hurt when I promised to protect you.”

In his Templar armor, Carver is imposing, looming over Anders as he makes his demands. He pushes the mage backwards, pressing him against the wall and Garrett can see the fear and desperation that flashes across Anders’ face. 

Something in Garrett shifts - he no longer sees his brother, standing in front of his lover. The anger and pain and helplessness he’s being feeling for the last six weeks burns blistering hot in his blood. His mind provides an alternate image of the scene in front of him; of Anders fighting off rough, insistent hands as they strip him of his clothes and force him into submission. He doesn’t quite know what happens next, seeing only a blur of movement as two bodies stagger away from the wall and stumble towards him, arms and lips entwined in a kiss that is both passionate and violent in its intensity.

Instinctively, Garrett throws a barrier around Anders before unleashing a blast that ripples outwards in a massive display of telekinetic power, crashing against the Templar and hurling him across the room. He is there in an instant, yanking the man up to face him, barely containing his fury.

“Get your hands off him Templar.”

“Garrett! No stop!!” Anders is frantic, pulling Garrett away from Carver before crouching next to the prone man on the ground. His hands give off an iridescent glow, enveloping the three of them in a faint blue aura as he checks for internal bleeding and broken bones. Carver moans, shaking his head slightly as he feels a wave of healing magic wash over him. 

“Aargh...are you trying to kill me, brother?”

Garrett narrows his eyes, threat evident in the way he stands above Carver with a gaze that is as sharp as newly polished daggers. “Have you done something that would make me want to kill you, _brother_?”

He sees it immediately, the guilt that flashes across Carver’s face before he looks pointedly away. Anders watches them both before he sighs, pinching his brow in frustration before a mask of indifference slips over his face. “Why are you here Hawke? What did you hear?”

Garrett’s gaze softens as he steps closer to Anders. “I heard enough. I know he’s blackmailing you to sleep with him. Whatever it is, you can tell me Anders. I can fix this. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

“I’m not blackmailing him!” Carver stands, indignant, dusting and straightening his armor before he strides over to Garrett and steps between the two mages. “You have no idea what’s going on!”

“Is that right?” Garrett shakes his head, unbelieving. “I heard what you said Carver. You threatened to come to me with whatever Anders was planning to do to force him to cooperate. I heard him say he wasn’t going to...he said not to touch him again!” He shoved Carver out of the way before urging his lover to answer. “Anders? Is he blackmailing you?”

He doesn’t look at Garrett when he answers, his gaze directed at the empty space in front of him. “No.”

Garrett’s brow furrows in confusion. “I don’t understand. If he’s not blackmailing you...are you saying that you slept with him willingly?”

Anders glances over at Garrett but doesn’t respond. In the agonizing moment when their eyes meet, Garrett knows – that whatever might be going on between his brother and his lover, Anders had chosen to do so of his own free will.

He staggers backwards, as though he’s been struck by an invisible blow. Anders watches him, his gaze never leaving Garrett’s though the impassive expression on his face doesn’t change. 

“I don’t care what you think of me Garrett. I love Anders. I have from the moment I met him.” Garrett scoffs as Carver continues, “I’ve been working to help him all these years, working on behalf of mages from inside the Gallows. I know that the cause for mages’ freedom is the most important thing to him and that’s why I joined the Order. While you’ve been running around this city being its savior, I’ve been working to champion his cause. I would sacrifice anything for him, anything to be with him! Can you say the same?”

Garrett hides his surprise at Carver’s words. He’d always seen his brother’s recruitment into the Order as an act of rebellion; to break away from the large shadow cast by their father’s absence in his life. He had never considered there might be an alternate reason - a reason that had to do with his feelings for the Darktown healer.

Carver takes his brother’s silence as an opportunity to continue, though his voice takes on an almost pleading tone as he looks towards Anders. “I’ve been loyal to you all these years, Anders. I love only you. Surely that has to mean something?” When he turns to Garrett his face twists with disgust. “Tell me something _brother_ , if Fenris hadn’t left you, would you even be with Anders now? Or would you have happily carried on with the elf, moving _him_ in to live with you in your big Hightown estate?” 

Anders has moved away from both of them, his body turned partially away so that Garrett can only see his face in profile. He catches the slight flinch of the mage’s shoulders at Carver’s words and curses the Maker and Andraste for his brother’s uncanny ability to always make things worse. 

Garrett snaps, “You don’t know anything about my relationship with Anders or what happened with Fenris. Don’t twist this around to suit your own purposes.”

“Oh but I’m not making any of this up! Don’t you remember Mother’s weekly visit to the Gallows, brother? What else did she have to share with me but stories about you? The great Garrett Hawke, scion of the Amell dynasty, advisor to the Viscount, leader of your little band of adventurers?”

Garrett shakes his head. “So you’re jealous. After all these years you’re still the same! You’re angry because you didn’t get enough recognition? So you covet what’s mine? My friends? My life? My lover?”

He feels the rage building inside him as he faces off with his brother, even as a part of him is heartbroken to see their relationship in tatters. He takes a step towards Carver, the arcane power once again leaking outwards as he struggles to maintain control. 

Anders’ voice slices through the tension between the two men. “Carver, you should go. I need to speak with Hawke alone.”

The Templar resists, scowling at Garrett as he answers, “I’m not going to leave you here alone with him! He’s angry and barely in control of his magic! What if he hurts you?”

Anders spins abruptly towards them, glaring at Carver with a fierceness that makes both brothers wince. “I already told you to leave. Now get out! I don’t want your protection and I certainly don’t need to be protected from Hawke!”

The stunned look on his brother’s face would have made Garrett laugh, if not for their current abysmal situation. Carver started to speak, then clamped his mouth shut, before turning around and walking briskly out of the clinic doors.

The empty quiet of Darktown settles around the lovers as they stare at each other, neither wanting to break the uneasy silence between them. Finally, Anders turns to face Garrett, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Ask me, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

He answers without thinking, “Do you love him?”

Anders scoffs, “No.”

Garrett wants to reach out, to pull the other man into his arms and hold on. He half lifts his arm to reach for Anders’ cheek, only to drop his hand as he feels the chaos of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. 

“Do you love me?”

The look that Anders gives him, filled with a lifetime’s worth of affection and longing is enough to break his heart. “More than my life.”

An anguished sob tears apart the fragile moment between them. “You’re a liar Anders! How can you say that you love me and betray me with my own brother?”

He knows he is lashing out, his heart wounded by a betrayal from the two men he loves most in this world. Garrett sees the tears in Anders’ eyes but he can’t help himself; for once he won’t stop until he hears the whole truth from the man standing before him.

“I’m a liar. I’m a monster. I never claimed I would do anything but hurt you.” The tears are running freely down his face as Anders continues, “If I’ve lied, it’s only to protect you, because I don’t want to see anything happen to you because of me.”

Garrett can barely see straight, tears blinding him and his anger driving him forward relentlessly. “Oh you’re such a bloody martyr! I didn’t ask for your protection! I just wanted you to trust me! And you never did, did you?” He snarled, grabbing Anders’ arm and shoving the mage backwards as he continued, “You’re such a good liar aren’t you? Because it’s never just an outright lie! You either give me a bunch of half truths or you just dodge the bloody question!”

Dropping Anders’ arm he spun around and started to pace, hands clenched tightly into fists. “ _I’m a Warden, Garrett, there are certain unpleasant side effects to the Joining._ ” He glared at his lover. “Unpleasant side effects. Is that what you call having twenty years left to live? Would you have even told me if we hadn’t gone to the Vimmark Mountains?”

Anders stands perfectly still, watching his lover; the sound of his ragged breathing filling the silence between Garrett’s accusations. 

“How about this one? _Nathaniel Howe and I were Wardens together in Amaranthine._ You didn’t think I’d want to know you two had a history, before he threw himself at you in the Deep Roads, proclaiming his undying devotion?”

He stopped in front of Anders, grabbing his lover’s shoulders and snarled, “When did this thing with Carver start?”

He could feel Anders tremble, before he pulled away from Garrett and answered, “That night at the Rose.”

“What? How?”

“Carver was there. After the others left he came in, untied me.” Anders sighed. “He guarded me all night, to make sure I was safe while we waited for the drugs to clear. He...” 

Garrett interrupted, “So what, you slept with him to thank him for rescuing you?”

“No.” Anders flinches, but he doesn't continue. 

His lover’s unwillingness to talk only fuels his rage and feelings of helplessness. The words tumble out before Garrett can stop himself. “How could you fuck another Templar after what those bastards did to you? Did you want Templar cock in your life so much you had to have Carver give it to you?”

The silence that follows is deafening. Anders reels, equal parts stunned and shattered by the scathing outburst. For a moment everything Anders is feeling is laid bare for Garrett to see – that he is lost, heartbroken and resigned - before the blank mask slams back into place. 

“I think it’s time for you to go Hawke.”

He doesn’t wait for Garrett to respond, retreating to his room in the back of the clinic and shuts the door behind him without a backwards glance. 

Garrett stares at the door, his stomach clenching as he struggles to keep from emptying its contents on the clinic floor. He is dumbstruck at the turn of events; disbelieving at his own cruel words and his inability to reach Anders, instead driving him further away. 

He turns to leave, shutting the clinic door behind him before heading home through the estate’s cellar entrance. Lost in thought, Garrett doesn’t realize he’s made it all the way to the study until Varric calls out to him. 

“Hawke, did you find Blondie? He didn’t come back with you?”

Fenris and Varric are sitting by the fire, sharing a bottle of wine and a deck of playing cards. The easy camaraderie of the scene makes Garrett laugh bitterly. What wouldn’t he give to have Anders here right now? To have him home, sharing a quiet evening with him and their friends? 

“He’s not coming back Varric. He’s probably with his new lover right now.”

Varric frowns, shaking his head at Garrett. “What are you talking about Hawke? New lover? Blondie? Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

Garrett sighed. “I wish I’d hit my head. I saw them at the clinic together and confronted them. They admitted to it.”

It was Fenris’ turn to ask, “Who did you see the mage with?”

A familiar voice interrupted before Garrett could answer. “Me.”


	8. Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver tells Garrett the whole truth about the night at the Rose.

“You bastard! How dare you show your face here!”

Garrett lunges forward, his temper spiking dangerously once more as he is flooded with feelings of jealously and betrayal. He makes a grab for Carver, only to feel a strong arm around his chest, holding him back from the defiant man standing at the doorway to the study.

“Let me go Fenris, damn you!” He tries to pull away from the elf’s strong grip, still lunging and kicking madly as Fenris calmly holds him back. Garrett snarls at Carver, “I’m going to tear that smug look right off your face!”

Carver ignores him as he glances anxiously around the room, eyes obviously searching for the apostate healer. “Is he here? Is he alright?”

“Who?” Varric looks a bit bewildered at the chaos around him. “Are you talking about Blondie?”

Garrett yanks himself from Fenris’s grasp and stomps in front of the fire, facing away from his brother. Fenris turns to Carver and answers, “The mage is not here.”

“Why would he be here Carver? Shouldn’t you be with him? Guarding your new lover and defending him against dangerous men like me?” Garrett can’t help the petulant tone that accompanies his accusation, ego bruised and mind still reeling from the events that transpired this evening.

Carver frowns, stepping into the room and standing with his arms crossed as he glares at his brother. “Why didn’t you bring him home? Did you leave Anders at the clinic by himself?”

Garrett whirls to face him, eyes flashing, “You have some nerve coming here after what you did! Slinging accusations after the two of you have been carrying on behind my back!”

“This is all my doing. You shouldn’t blame Anders.”

He snorts in disbelief at Carver’s claim, ignoring the part of him that hopes the statement is true. Garrett doesn’t want to believe that Anders did this willingly; he wants to trust in their love and the life they’ve built together in this crazy city.

Varric whistles, shaking his head, “Blondie and Junior? I’ve heard a lot of tall tales in my time and certainly made up my fair share of them. But this here just doesn’t make any sense to me.”

Garrett can’t keep the mirthless chuckle from escaping. “Well that makes two of us.”

Fenris has been quiet, standing conspicuously between the two brothers. “Hawke, where is the mage?”

“He’s fine,” Garrett waves his hand absently. “I left him at the clinic after...our talk.” He scowls at Carver who is still standing by the doorway, “If you run now I’m sure you’ll still have the rest of the evening to spend together.”

The look Carver levels his way is unexpected; it reminds Garrett so much of Bethany that it stings, the same mix of exasperation and disappointment she used to convey when her brothers’ constant bickering drove her to wit’s end. “You're such a selfish ass, standing there with your sarcastic digs instead of helping him! You say you love him, Garrett! Damn it he needs you right now!”

Carver’s words barely register as he struggles with the conflicting emotions running rampant in his mind. How could things have gone so wrong in such a short period of time? Was it only last night that he and Anders had spent in each other’s arms, reacquainting themselves after weeks of physical and emotional distance? How was it that in the space of a day he could lose the man he loved, to his brother of all people?

Fenris’ voice pulls Garrett out of his thoughts, “Why are you here Carver? What do you want from Hawke?”

“Meredith sent for the Rite of Annulment almost a week ago and an answer from the Divine is expected in a few days time. I went to tell Anders about this tonight but he already knew.” Carver paces back and forth as he continues, “I’m afraid he’s going to do something drastic to stop her.”

Varric eyes Carver as he speaks, “Do you have something specific in mind? Did Blondie share his plans with you?”

He shakes his head, “No, but I think he's in danger. He...he asked me to help him gather some ingredients. I don’t know what they’re for and he wouldn’t give me any details. But I suspect they’re for a potion or a poison – maybe something he’ll use to assassinate the Knight Commander.”

Garrett doesn’t speak, lost in thought as he considers Anders’ behaviour the past few weeks. He’d been pulling away, disappearing all hours of the day and night and Garrett wonders, is this why he’s been so distant? What is he planning? And why didn’t Anders confide in him?

Varric continues, “What ingredients are we talking about?”

“Drakestone, found in The Bone Pit. And a crystal called Sela Petrae, from the sewers.”

Fenris stiffens and takes a step closer to Garrett. “Hawke, Sela Petrae is one of the ingredients used in the Qunari’s gaatlock.” He shifts uncomfortably as he continues, “I came upon this information by chance, during my time with the Fog Warriors in Seheron. I cannot see what purpose the mage would have to gather it, unless it is to create his own version of the powder.”

Garrett looks at each of them in turn. “You think he’s going to...what would he even do with something like that?”

Varric shrugs, “Who knows what that spirit has got him convinced to do? Maybe blow up the Gallows, hoping to free all the mages in the chaos? Or Templar Hall to get rid of Meredith and as many as he can of the Order?”

“No, we’ve been to Meredith’s office remember? There are too many Templars wandering around for Anders to slip by.”

The dwarf’s gaze is sharp when he answers, “Unless he decides to let himself get caught so he can be brought in to see Meredith. Maybe he’s counting on her paranoia; that she’ll want to interrogate him before she kills him or makes him Tranquil.”

Garrett can’t control the shiver that runs through him at the thought of Anders in the Knight Commander’s hands; he knows without a doubt she would make him Tranquil to serve as a warning for other mages. He looks at Carver and sighs, “I can’t believe he trusted you to help him and not me. Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?”

Carver hesitates before answering. “He asked me not to tell anyone, especially you.”

The admission hurts, that Anders trusted Carver with something important that he couldn’t (wouldn’t) share with Garrett. He hides the pain with a biting remark, “What, he wouldn't sleep with you unless you promised to keep his secrets?”

Carver averts his eyes but the guilty look on his face is painfully obvious to the others. Garrett can’t believe it. “Are you saying...that he bribed you with sex to keep quiet?”

His brother shakes his head forcefully. “Look it's complicated. He wanted my help...and he offered to be with me...”

Garrett curses loudly and spins to face his brother. “So you took him up on his offer? Treated him like he was some kind of wh....”

It’s Carver’s turn to lunge forward, fists clenched and face red with fury. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare say I treated him like that! I would have done whatever he asked of me regardless! You don't know what happened!”

Varric steps between the brothers this time, pulling on Carver’s arm and dragging him away from Garrett. “Hawke, I know we’re all worried about Blondie here...just...don’t say anything you’re going to regret.”

He rubs both hands over his face and sinks haphazardly into a chair, the fight draining out of him. “It’s too late Varric. I already did that with Anders.” Garrett gazes up at Carver and says tiredly, “I don’t know what you want me to do or if there’s anything I **can** do. I...when we were at the clinic, I said something...I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again.”

Carver moves next to Garrett, kneeling in front of his brother to look him in the eye. “Whatever it is...look I know he loves you. I never deluded myself into thinking he would ever feel for me what he feels for you.” His eyes blur as he struggles to hold back tears. “I hurt him Garrett, badly. I’ve made so many mistakes and bad choices and now there’s nothing I can do to fix them. You have to help me fix them, please. For Anders...and for both our sakes.”

Garrett sighs, feeling a pang of sympathy at his brother’s obvious despair and heartache. “Tell me what you did Carver.”

“I was there, that night at the Rose.” Carver stands, turning away from Garrett. Fenris and Varric share a look but neither chooses to interrupt as he continues. “After the men left I went to see him.”

“He told me.”

Carver doesn’t look Garrett’s way when he asks, “What...what did he say?”

“He said you untied him and that you stayed to guard him all night. Is that when things...started between you two?”

Carver makes a noise like a wounded animal. “Maker, Garrett! It was never supposed to happen! Not like that!” He runs his hand through his hair, his distress obvious to the others in the room. “He asked me how I knew where he was, why I didn’t warn him they were planning to attack. I told him about my involvement with the Underground and why I had to choose between keeping my mouth shut or let them kill him or make him Tranquil!”

He hesitates, his stance rigid and defensive like he expects an attack. A few moments pass before Fenris breaks the silence. “You say you care for the mage, Carver. Tell Hawke everything so he can help him.”

They watch as Carver struggles to make a decision, until his shoulders finally sag and a look of resignation comes over him. “I might be the reason he’s being so reckless, or at least one of the reasons he’s choosing to do something drastic with no consideration for his own life.”

Garrett repeats his question, filled with dread at what the response could be. “What did you do Carver?”

His brother is shaking now, face pale as he pushes on. “I wanted him. I told him how much I loved him, how much I’ve always loved him and I asked him to be with me. He said no...I didn’t listen.”

The silence in the room is palpable, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. Garrett’s world closes in on him as he sits stunned, horrified and in disbelief.

“Are you saying Carver, that you...raped him?”

“Yes.”

He’s on his feet in a flash, moving so fast the others don’t have time to intervene. Garrett smashes a gauntleted fist into Carver’s face, knocking him to the ground with a crash. A second punch slices open his brother’s lip, blood spraying them both as they tumble violently together in a mess of armored limbs.

Fenris hauls Garrett up, struggling to keep him away from his brother who is laying motionless on the ground, his eyes staring at nothing. Varric moves to Carver’s side and pulls him to a sitting position, shaking the Templar out of his stupor before moving away.

Garrett’s voice is almost a whisper, his rage barely held in check behind a veneer of menacing calm. “How could you! How could you take advantage of him after those bastards just raped him! How can you even say that you love him, Carver? I don't even know who you are! The brother I knew would never do something so despicable!”

“I know! I’ve made a terrible mistake Garrett! I never meant to hurt him, I swear! I just wanted to help him, to protect him. That’s all I’ve ever wanted!” He is beside himself with grief, the shame and revulsion plain on his face.

“Get out, I never want to see your face again. Stay away from Anders, he doesn't need the type of love you have to offer.”

Carver picks himself up off the ground and slowly makes his way towards the door. He turns back and makes a last appeal to Garrett. “You're right, he needs you. I’m sorry...for everything. Please find him before it's too late.”

Garrett doesn’t answer as he watches his brother leave. He has no words to express how he feels, so many revelations one after the other sending him into a state of shock.

Fenris pours a glass of wine from the bottle on the table and hands it to Garrett, who downs the contents in one gulp. He refills the glass, then pours one for himself and another for Varric.

Garrett looks at his companions, hoping for answers, “Why didn’t Anders tell me about Carver?”

“He's your brother, Hawke.” Varric sighs. “My guess is Blondie knew this would happen if you found out and decided to protect your relationship with him.”

Garrett scoffs, “But why go to Carver for help after what he did? How could he even stand to be in the same room with him?”

“You need to look at this from Blondie’s perspective, Hawke. Whatever he’s planning is probably dangerous, and will probably get him into a lot of trouble. He cares what happens to you so he’s keeping you out of it to protect you. He doesn’t have the same inclination to protect Carver. Maybe he feels Carver owes him for what he did.”

“But to offer to sleep with his rapist?” Garrett shakes his head, “Why...how could he even do that?”

The three men lapse into silence again as they consider his question. Fenris pours another drink and settles into a chair next to Garrett. “When I was a slave, I did not understand that the things Danarius asked of me were wrong. I knew only that my purpose was to please him, to be the perfect slave I was trained to be.” He swirled his glass and took another sip before continuing, “The experience affected my ability to deal with my emotions, my anger. I did not realize how it colored my view of the world until I killed Danarius and removed the threat hanging over me. Yet I feel his hold over me still.”

“I do not pretend to understand Anders or what he has experienced at the hands of Templars. I can only assume from his rants that he has suffered greatly at their hands. Perhaps this...incident with Carver and the others has brought unwelcome reminders to the forefront.”

Garrett considers Fenris’s words, before he asks, “But that doesn’t explain why he would sleep with Carver. Wouldn’t it make sense for him to be angry? To lash out or try to avenge the wrong that was done to him?”

Fenris merely shrugs as he looks at Garrett, “The mage is damaged. He is desperate. He’s planning to do something that will likely lead to repercussions for you and those around you. Despair and self loathing can make a person do strange things. Maybe he doesn’t think he deserves better.”

Varric scowls, “We need to go find him, Hawke.”

“I left him at the clinic. Maybe he’s still there.”

They stand and grab their weapons, as Fenris remains seated by the fire. “I will wait here. If he comes back I will keep him here until you return.”

Garrett nods his thanks and heads out the door towards the cellar exit, Varric following close behind. When they arrive, it’s Lirene they find in the back room, directing a couple of Darktown residents to remove the few crates that are the only things left in the empty clinic.

“Oh, Champion! What are you doing here? If you’re looking for Anders you just missed him.”

“What’s going on here? Where are you taking all of the clinic’s supplies? Where are Anders’ things?”

Lirene gives him an odd look. “We’re shutting down the clinic and moving the supplies to my store for the time being, until we find another healer. Anders says that he’s leaving and won’t be around to run the clinic anymore. I assumed you two were leaving Kirkwall.”

Garrett doesn’t answer, too bewildered to address Lirene’s explanations. He hears the sounds behind him as Varric walks Lirene to the door, promising to close up the clinic when they leave.

He drops onto an empty cot, burying his face in his hands. “Varric, what did I do? I let him go...no I drove him away! And now he's gone and he thinks I don’t love him anymore.” The dwarf pats him on the shoulder as he continues, “Anders is out there all alone, feeling like he has no one left he can count on. Maker, this is all my fault! Why didn’t I listen to him when he tried to explain?”

“Hawke, Blondie knows you love him. Where ever he is we'll find him alright? First thing tomorrow we’ll grab Isabela and Merrill and the rest to look for him and we’ll bring him home.”

He nods, getting up from the cot and heading towards the clinic doors. A small flash of light catches his eye, and he stops, heading in the opposite direction from where he sat to another empty cot in the corner. Sitting in the dim light, Garrett can clearly see the outline of the Tevinter Chantry symbol engraved on the amulet. It's the first gift he ever gave to Anders; one the apostate has carried with him every day since.

“Anders...”

Varric doesn’t comment, instead he places a hand on Garrett’s elbow and guides him out of the clinic. They wander Darktown for a few hours, finding no sign of the mage before heading back to the estate.

Garrett spends a fitful night in bed, too anxious to sleep as he wonders where Anders could be hiding. He is up early and ready to begin the search again when Bodahn knocks on his bedroom door.

“Messere, this letter just arrived for you. The messenger said it was most urgent, and that you should read it right away.”

  


_Champion,_

_You have proven yourself a friend to Kirkwall's mages and it seems I must call upon you once again._

_Meredith has gone too far, and I will not let her madness remain unchecked. I ask that you come to the Gallows at once._

_Perhaps together we can stop this before there is bloodshed._

_First Enchanter Orsino_

  


Garrett sighed. Whatever Orsino wanted from him today, he had better make it quick.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More edits to this chapter - the main one addresses a change I made two chapters ago where Carver originally tells Anders about Meredith's plans to search the mages' quarters in the Gallows. I though leaving it out made the reveal at the end of this chapter a bit more suspenseful, instead of telegraphing in advance what would be happening next :)


	9. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett finds Anders at the end of things.

The blinding light brings them war.

_“There can be no peace.”_

He looks up and sees the color of the sky, stained red, like blood.

Sacrifice.

The ground shakes, and there are people screaming, words and cries of pain and outrage. He is the center of the storm that swirls around him, though he feels nothing himself but the calmness within. Voices are raised, accusing, judging, and he hears his own answers through a distant haze, separated as he is from the world by a numbness that surrounds and embraces him.

_“There is no compromise.”_

_“The world needs to see.”_

Battle erupts and he is only dimly aware of the fight. He watches silently as the ashes fall from the sky, tainted, floating in the air and carried by the wind, raining bloody tears on Kirkwall below. 

He sits, unmoving, away from the clatter of swords and shields and looks down at the hands in front of him. The fingers are long and slender, healer’s hands; though now he sees only blood where the glow of healing magic used to be. He watches as it falls unending from his hands to the ground beneath him, staining it, rivers of red running under his feet.

Silence.

He thinks about his mother, how she cried for him when they took him away. 

He thinks about Karl, how he stared, eyes unseeing when the knife pierced his flesh.

He thinks about Nate, how he searched desperately for a glimpse of him before marching from the Keep.

He thinks about Justice, how he vowed to share his strength and his indomitable will for the long days to come. 

And he thinks about Hawke, who gave him his heart and promised to stay, teaching him about love and choices and freedom.

He pulls the knife from his belt and stares at the blade. He can see the light catch on the sharp edge and watches as the (his) blood bathes it in red from the hilt to the tip. 

He thinks about Rolan, how he tortured and used him, in the name of love and protection.

He thinks about the numerous Templars he has known, beating him, raping him, hurting mages in the Maker’s name.

He thinks about a life spent on the run, constantly in fear and in doubt, waiting for his happiness, his freedom, his mind to be torn away.

Salvation.

He is ready for the peace that darkness will bring. 

 

***

Garrett watches as the sky is bathed in red, the blinding explosion shooting out and upwards, soaring in the skies above Kirkwall. There is silence all around him from those who have gathered to witness the confrontation between First Enchanter and Knight Commander. Stunned looks and incredulous glances are shared before all eyes turn to the apostate healer before them.

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and feels an awareness and clarity of purpose that’s been missing from his life for far too long. The lies, the secrecy, the distance, he knows now that they have all led to this moment. A final stand, taken by his spirit possessed lover to finally make the world see; to make them act. He watches as they accuse him, judge him and call him a murderer for killing innocents in the Chantry and beyond. And he knows without a doubt that the recriminations and condemnations the healer levels against himself will carve a deeper wound than anything the Knight Commander or the Prince can hope to make.

He watches as Anders responds, answering the accusations with calm surety and conviction. This is the purpose for which their union was wrought; Anders’ and Justice’s fight for a better future for mages. He understands, in a way he never has before what it means to sacrifice, to believe. 

He thinks of his father, who spent years running to keep his family safe, never staying in one place, always fearing for the lives of his children.

He thinks of his mother, who squeezed his hand and embraced him when he left the house, as though each time could be the last time she ever saw him.

He thinks of his sister, who cried from nightmares of being torn from her family, wishing to be normal, clinging to his hand as he rocks her back to sleep.

He thinks of his brother, who loves them and hates them equally for being something he is not, desperate to be needed, to be worthy.

He thinks of Anders, who spends his days healing the sick and his nights freeing mages, in a tireless crusade to prove to the world they were just people, and deserved to be free.

Though he has lost them all through tragedy and circumstance and misunderstanding, he knows he is lucky to have had them at all. And he wants this, more than he ever thought he would, a world where his father, his sister, could have lived their lives and been free. A world where someone like him, could love someone like Anders, and there would be no Templars to tear them apart.

He is ready for the war that the beacon over Kirkwall brings.

 

***

He sits and waits, for _Justice_ and _Vengeance_ to be demanded of him for the lives he’s taken this day. He’s never been more ready for something in his life, to stop running, to finally take a stand. This was what he was meant to do, the day he took a spirit into his soul and changed himself forever. He feels nothing, mind and heart and soul too tired from a life of endless heartbreak and pain. The promise of peace in oblivion beckons.

A face, beloved, etched with sorrow and worry fills his vision. He’s relieved that Garrett is here, that the man he loves more than his life is here at the end of it. He searches his lover’s face for understanding; that he is tired, worn thin, having fulfilled his role for the sake of mages everywhere. He’s ready to be free, for Justice to be free, for Garrett to be free.

“Anders, why didn’t you tell me?” A hand, cupping his cheek, gentle and warm. 

“I wanted to tell you, but what if you stopped me? Or worse, what if you wanted to help? I couldn’t let you do that.” He focuses, gazing into the warm brown eyes he loves, “The world needs to see this, love. Then we can all stop pretending the Circle is a solution. If I pay for that with my life, then I pay. Perhaps then Justice would at least be free.” 

The knife from his belt lies beside him where he sits. He holds the handle towards his lover, hand steady and sure. “I’m ready Garrett. Give them justice for the lives I’ve taken today. Give me the peace I deserve.”

His lover recoils, lunging away from the knife before grabbing it from his hand and flinging it away from them both. “You want me to kill you? How could you...did you really believe I could ever bring myself to hurt you?”

Garrett pulls him close, arms wrapped tightly around him. He leans in and presses his cheek against Anders’, whispering the words into his ear, willing him to listen and to believe. “I love you, Anders. There is nothing you’ve done or can ever do that will change how I feel about you. You...you can’t ask me to kill you! I would never, never hurt you!” He clings harder, voice and body desperate for understanding. “I’ve made a mess of things between us, but I swear we can make it right. We can do this together, save the mages from Meredith if you help me fight!”

He shakes his head, and gently pushes his lover away. “I don’t deserve another chance. I lied to you, cheated on you, hurt you when all you’ve done is love me and support me. I’m broken, damaged beyond repair...I don’t have anything left in me to give.”

The sound his lover makes is terrible, a deep, guttural sob wrenched from his lips as though his heart has been cleaved in two. He yanks them both to their feet, voice equal parts seething and helpless as he cries out, “No! You will not give up on me Anders! You promised! You promised to love me! To stay with me until the day we die! I won’t let you leave!”

He pours his whole being into his kiss, willing Anders to hang on with the strength of his love and conviction. Garrett grasps his lover’s face, holding him close, crushing their mouths together with the fiery intensity that reminds them both of their first kiss, a lifetime ago. Anders feels the warmth blooming inside, as though Garrett is literally breathing the life back into him. When they finally part, he feels the smallest kernel of hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning instead of an end.

Garrett clasps their hands together and holds them over his heart, “You can’t leave this war you’ve started without seeing it through. It will take years of open warfare throughout Thedas before mages can be safe. We’ll leave this all behind us and take up the fight. Let me help you.”

The numbness begins to fade as he kisses Garrett and answers, “Then we will be fugitives together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few creative uses of the in game dialogue; hope the effect is not too jarring!


	10. Goodbyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Garrett say goodbye to their life in Kirkwall. Carver is forgiven.
> 
> **See Chapter Notes at End for Warnings!**

They stagger through the Hightown streets, supporting each other as they make their way through the chaos towards the estate. It’s a familiar scene, a city in crisis, reminiscent of the battle with the Qunari years ago that made his brother Champion.

Fires have broken out all over Hightown and great chunks of granite are everywhere, remnants of the Chantry fallen from the sky. There are panicked shouts as nobles race to get clear of their mansions, servants hauling bags of belongings scurrying behind them. The smell of burning flesh is all around, screams of the injured and dying ringing in their ears as they pick their way through the rubble.

Anders’ face is ashen, his legs giving out more than once since leaving the Gallows behind them. He stares - at the bodies littering the streets, at the demolished buildings and raging fires, his fists clenched so hard Carver thinks he can see blood seeping from under his nails. Garrett is clutching him tightly, arm wrapped around the healer’s waist, dragging him through the streets and murmuring reassurances in his ear. He’s not sure any of his brother’s words are making it through.

They find the estate still intact and Carver can’t help but sigh in relief. He feels lightheaded and short of breath, his chest and muscles aching from being tossed like a rag doll by the giant statues Meredith summoned. He’ll take the opportunity to sit and rest, before they have to run again, probably with the Templar Order at their heels.

 

_They back away from Meredith’s body, as Cullen and the others look on. When they get to the Gallows entrance, Garrett stops to give his companions a last set of instructions as their friend and Champion._

_“Varric and I will go with Anders to the estate, to check on Bodahn and Sandal and Orana. Isabela, will you take the others with you and meet us at the docks?”_

_The pirate Captain winks, looking only slightly worse for wear after a battle that has left the rest of them battered and bruised. “Sure sweet thing. Just don’t take too long...I’m anxious to take my pretty new ship out to sea.”_

_Carver says nothing as the others turn to follow her. He shifts uncomfortably, unsure what he should do next. Though he sided with his brother against the Order, he’s unclear how things stand between them. Would Garrett even want him around, now that the immediate danger has passed?_

_He turns at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Carver, come on let's go.”_

_“Are...are you sure you want me to come with you?”_

_It’s Anders who answers him. “Yes, come with us Carver.”_

 

He slumps into a chair in the main room, in too much pain to make it any further in. Garrett disappears upstairs with Varric, conceivably to make arrangements for the dwarves and Orana to leave the city, and to pack his and Anders’ belongings for their own departure from Kirkwall. 

“Carver.” The sound of the mage’s voice brings him back to the present.

“Anders.”

He steps closer, a scrutinizing look on his face as he examines Carver. “You look like you’re in pain. Were you injured during the fight? Let me check you over.” He leans over and the magic flares briefly in his hands before it sputters out like a doused flame. 

Carver catches his arm to steady him, the mage still looking pale and fragile as he takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I used up all my mana healing Garrett and it hasn’t come back yet. I’ll see if he has an extra lyrium potion when he comes downstairs.” 

He’s not surprised that Anders is drained after the battle. Meredith delivered a devastating blow to the Champion before she was finally defeated, and it had taken everything the healer had in him to close the gaping chest wound that almost took his brother’s life. He shakes his head, “I’m fine. Just winded from the fight.” Anders doesn’t look convinced, but he nods his head and starts to pull away.

Carver tightens his grip on the mage’s arm and the words spill out of him in a rush. “I killed them, earlier, during the battle. The ones who hurt you.”

Anders stiffens but his tone is even when he asks, “Did you?” 

Carver nods and waits a moment before he forges ahead, “I’m sorry Anders. I know that I hurt you too. That I... raped you, that night at the Rose.” He rubs the sweat from his forehead. “I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to make things right. And I know I don’t have any right to ask for your forgiveness. I just...want you to know that I’m truly sorry.” 

The mage doesn’t pull his arm away, allowing Carver to keep him close. “You did hurt me Carver, more than you know. And I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget it.” His voice is soft as he continues, “But I used you too and I hurt Garrett in the process. And after what happened today...well we could all do with some forgiveness couldn’t we?” 

Carver feels a ground swell of relief and gratitude for the man standing in front of him and pushes back the urge to jump up and embrace him. Instead, he reaches into his breastplate and pulls out a small cloth bundle, pushing it into Anders’ hand. 

“Well we’re ready to go.” Garrett is coming down the stairs, Varric close behind with the dwarves and Orana. He watches his brother and Anders make their farewells, Bodahn promising to take care of the elf and bring her with them to Orlais.

The estate is quiet when the door shuts behind them, leaving the remaining four to enjoy a moment of respite from the chaos outside. Finally, Varric breaks the silence to urge them on, “You best get moving before the others leave without you.”

Garrett pulls the dwarf forward and wraps his arms around him in a bear hug. “You’ll keep an eye on Aveline for me won’t you? Make sure she doesn’t work herself into an early grave?”

Varric chuckles, “Of course Hawke. With you and Blondie leaving, she’s the only one left for me to write about.” He turns his gaze to Anders and gives him a pointed look before pulling him into hug. “And you Blondie. I still don’t want your pillow. But I do want you to promise me you’ll take care of yourself and Hawke. And don't forget to keep me updated on your adventures as fugitives on the run.” 

Anders looks fondly at Varric and grips him tightly before releasing him. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They shoulder their packs and start for the door. Garrett turns to his brother and beckons, “Come on Carver, we need to get down to the docks.”

The pain in his chest hurts and he knows he can’t make it that far without some time to rest. He doesn’t want them to wait for him to be ready; it won’t be safe very much longer for either the Champion or the Healer to remain in the city.

“I’m not going with you. I’ll stay here in Kirkwall, help Varric keep an eye on things, maybe give Aveline a hand.” 

Garrett frowns, “I’m not sure you’ll be safe here Carver. Cullen knows you sided with me during the fight. I don’t him to punish you because I’m not here for him to lock up.”

Carver takes a shuddering breath and shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll lay low for while and see what they decide to do.” He walks over to his brother and clasps a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry Garrett, for everything I’ve done to you and to Anders. I hope you can forgive me someday for being such a tit.” He embraces the other man and continues, “I’m proud to call you brother. That’s gone unsaid too long.”

Garrett grips him tightly and places a quick kiss on his forehead. “Take care of yourself Carver. I’ll write to you and let you know where we land next.” 

He watches as the mages disappear out the door, Garrett holding Anders’ hand as they walk briskly through the rubble towards the docks. When he turns back, he sees Varric eyeing him strangely. “Are you feeling alright Junior? You look pale as a ghost.”

Carver stumbles back into the main room and sinks into a chair. “Just tired Varric. I need a bit of time to rest that’s all.”

“Alright then. You wait here while I lock up the estate. Hawke’s got some valuables in the cellar that I need to move for safe keeping. I expect the city officials will be swarming this place soon enough.”

He closes his eyes, hoping a bit of sleep will help relieve the dizziness and the tightness in his chest. 

  


*** 

“Carver!”

Someone is calling his name.

“Carver! Shit, wake up!”

The voice sounds familiar, where has he heard it before?

“Ancestors! Don’t you die on my watch Junior! Wake up!”

 

_“Carver!”_

_“Beth?”_

_“Wake up sleepy head! I’ve been waiting for you!”_

_“Where are we going?”_

_“Home, Carver. We’re going home. I’ve missed you so much brother.”_

Home. 

_“Wait for me Beth. I’m coming.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how obvious it is but poor Carver is suffering from internal bleeding. Major Character Death!


	11. Epilogue: Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrett and Anders get help from an old friend.

They are gazing out over the open water as the ship sails further away from the City of Chains. Garrett is relieved that they can no longer see the red skies above Kirkwall; he knows how deeply the events of the day have scarred his lover. They need distance, and some time to recuperate before deciding what to do next.

Anders is playing with a bundle in his hands, something wrapped in a red cloth.

Garrett is curious. “What have you got there?”

He doesn’t answer, instead, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a small glass vial cradled inside.

“Is that...”

Anders nods, “It’s my phylactery. One that Carver made the night at the Rose.” He picks up the vial in one hand and holds it up, the dark red fluid glowing with a tinge of lyrium.

Garrett is speechless. “Why?”

“He said it was so he could always find me, in case I was ever kidnapped again.”

“That’s...sort of sweet in a creepy kind of way isn’t it?” Garrett shakes his head at the thought of his brother going to such lengths to show his devotion.

Anders lets out a dry chuckle, “Well I thought so anyways.” He turns to Garrett and sighs. “We haven’t talked about this...me and Carver. How do we...can we move on from this?” 

“Well I can’t say I like the thought of you being able to compare how we are in bed.” Anders hisses and pulls his hand from Garrett’s. “Sorry, too soon for jokes in poor taste yes?” He grabs Anders’ hand and places a kiss on his palm. He sighs, “It hurt, Anders, I won’t lie. And I’m still not sure I understand it but I don’t want to be angry anymore. I love you and I love my brother and I don’t want to lose either of you.”

“I’m sorry Garrett,” Anders grips his hand tightly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you...but I’ve been saying that a lot lately haven’t I? I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but if you’re willing to give us another chance I swear to you I’ll stay by your side for as long as the Maker allows.”

Their kiss is sweet and slow and full of hope; a new beginning that promises a stronger bond, borne from the ashes of the trials they’ve survived. When they finally part, Garrett notices the red cloth still in Anders’ hand and plucks it free for a closer look. 

“That was wrapped around the phylactery from Carver. I don’t know what it is.”

Garrett clutches the cloth tightly in his hand and holds it up to his face. If he closes his eyes he thinks he can smell the sweet lavender scent his sister used to wear. “This belonged to Bethany. She was wearing this scarf when we ran from Lothering. It’s the only thing we have of hers that’s left.”

He pulls his lover’s arm towards him, taking the scarf and securing it tightly around his wrist. “You’re my family Anders. You should wear this for the both of us.”

They stand silently for a long time, watching the waves crash against the side of the ship as it slices through the water. Anders is the first to speak, “Where do suppose Isabela is headed?”

“Who knows? She said something about Rivain but she could just as easily head to Antiva.” Garrett shrugged. “As long as she leads the Templars away from us it doesn’t matter where she and Fenris goes does it?”

They're interrupted by a deep, gravelly voice behind them. “Anders. Champion.”

Garrett flinches, “Commander.”

Anders smiles warmly, though his expression quickly turns to worry. “Nate. Are you sure it’s a good idea for you to be helping us? I don’t want you to get into any trouble with the First Warden for harboring us at the Keep.”

The rogue shakes his head, “The Wardens take care of their own. As long as I’m the Commander in Ferelden you’ll be safe there. You can take some time to regroup. Figure out what to do next.” He smiled, his gaze on Anders as he continues, “We’ll be in Amaranthine in a few days. I’ll have one of the Wardens show you to your quarters.” He takes a few steps before he turns back towards them. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

Garrett rolls his eyes as the other man walks away, getting an elbow in the ribs from Anders for his efforts. “Don’t be ridiculous Garrett. The man is helping us!”

“He’s helping you! Maker he’s going to drive me mad with those smouldering looks he keeps giving you.”

Anders chuckled, “Don’t be jealous love. You’re the only one I want.” His next words were wistful and a little sad, “I wonder how much has changed since we were both in Ferelden?”

“Probably a lot has changed, but I’m anxious to see it anyway. Maybe go back and see what’s left of the old farm in Lothering?” He pulled Anders against him and wrapped his arms around the mage, “Are you ready to go home love?”

Anders kisses him on the lips, running his hand affectionately through Garrett’s beard. “I’m already home.” 

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garrett and Anders sail off into the sunset together! This is the only ending I will ever consider for these two :) Thanks for coming on this journey with me and I hope you liked the story.
> 
> Now off to write "The Game" for some more ridiculous angst and creepy Templar abuse. After that...l think I need some fluff. Lots of happy, happy fluff.


End file.
